


Polytropos

by honey_wheeler



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harem, Dom/sub Undertones, F/M, Group Marriage, Group Sex, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-02
Updated: 2019-09-02
Packaged: 2020-10-05 12:03:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20488583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honey_wheeler/pseuds/honey_wheeler
Summary: There are perks to being the first husband.





	Polytropos

It’s been a delicate dance, this business of husbands. Jon had grown up hearing of Targaryen dynasties, of brother wed to sister, and sometimes more than one sister, but he’d never anticipated such a life for himself.

Now that he’s in it, he wonders why not.

She’s painfully lovely. It’s a thought Jon has had too many times to count. A strange thing, beauty. Jon has known beautiful women before. With some of them, they began beautiful but became ugly to him as he learned their true natures. Others seemed plain but become lovely to him with time. But none of them were like Dany; it’s not her face or her body that move him but her vitality, her strength, her heart. It’s _her_.

“You look far away, my love,” Dany says. She tilts her head to smile at him, her toes curling on Jorah’s back, her knees squeezing around his ears as he sups between them. She frees her hand from where it had been tangling lazily in Daario’s hair and reaches out to him, running one fingertip up his ribcage and laughing when he squirms at the ticklish feel of it.

“Merely admiring,” he tells her after he catches her mischievous hand and brings it to his lips. “You present an exquisite picture.”

Daario lifts his head from her breast, his tongue making an unhurried curl around her nipple like a cat savoring a bowl of fresh cream. “She tastes even better,” he tells Jon with no small amount of taunting.

Jorah, face first in her cunt, only grunts his assent. Jon would envy them their positions if he didn’t know that it will be _his_ position at the end of the night, and again in the morning if Dany wishes it.

She usually does. There are perks to being the first husband.

It had gone more smoothly than Jon would have expected, all things considered. Perhaps Dany was too much of everything to be anything but shared. Perhaps they’d all suffered too much by then, lost so much and gained so little. Perhaps they were all too aware of the fragility of life, the fleeting nature of love and contentment. Perhaps it was simply impossible to be possessive of someone who gave of herself with such glorious, intoxicating generosity.

Which is not to say that it hadn’t taken some adjustment. The first time Daenerys returned to their rooms after a night with Daario, they’d struggled to navigate their new dynamic, each of them being too solicitous, too polite, treating each other more like strangers than a wedded pair. At first, Jon had thought he wouldn’t wish to know anything of what went on, first between Dany and Daario when they were together, and then between Dany and Jorah as well. It wasn’t until they began sharing her with each other that Jon realized the roil of emotions he felt at the thought of her with them was more interest than anger, more envy than jealousy. More pleasure than pain. 

“Are you not jealous, my King?” Dany asks him with a smile, as if his thoughts called out to her. She knows he isn’t. There are no secrets between them, not anymore. How could there be room for them in a life so full of everything else?

“I could pretend I am,” he says. “If it would please you.”

Her smile is pure innocence as her hand travels down to find and stroke his cock. “Of them,” she asks, “or me? I imagine Daario would be willing.” Daario laughs. He gives Jon a sly grin before moving his attention to Dany’s other breast. It’s been well established among them that Daario would fuck Jorah, were Jorah interested. Jon suspects that Daario would fuck most anything, really. Probably already has.

“Would you like me to be willing as well?” Jon asks her. She taps the fingertips of her free hand against her lips, as if in thought. 

“I might,” she says. Her smile turns wicked. “Daario also lets me fuck _him_ from time to time,” she tells him, almost casually, though her tone of voice is belied by the dark glitter of her eyes, the pinkness of her cheeks and chest, the way her teeth are a serrated edge on her lower lip. “Perhaps that’s something you might be jealous of as well?”

It’s not something he’s given much thought before, though he’s heard of it; one doesn’t spend years in the company of lonely, randy men without hearing about many proclivities, not to mention many accessories. But it matters little in the moment. Whether his desire for such things exists is incidental to his desire please her. 

“Perhaps we could discuss it,” he allows. Her hand tightens on his cock and her mouth goes slack, though whether it’s at the thought of buggering him with whatever prop or plaything she has in mind, or merely his willing submission to her desires, he couldn’t say.

She sighs into her peak when it comes. His disappointment at her taking her hand from his cock is tempered when she reaches up to pull his face down to hers with a fist in his hair. Her grip is just tight enough to be uncomfortable, but not so tight that it hurts. Her tongue is soft and warm on his, the blunt edge of her teeth reminding him of the power she wields so delicately. She pulls back to nip at his lower lip, her body rolling into another peak like a wave with Jorah’s unflagging attention.

“We’ll negotiate later,” she tell him, her voice rich with promise. “When we’re alone.”

Jon smiles against her lips. His patience will be well-rewarded tonight.


End file.
